Friendly Fire
by Kuro49
Summary: Erik/Charles. War happens and the giving becomes the receiving. Erik is feeling a little M and Charles can't help but want to play the S.


No S&M, just a kink for guns. And even then, it is kind of subtle. OTL I don't own a thing because its canon that Erik and Charles are forever in love.

XXX

**Friendly Fire**

XXX

Bending metal was very much like telepathy.

Both equally dangerous, equally fragile when one crossed that fine line of intimacy because then, things were left bent and broken, and it was the sort of broken where it was just beyond the point for repair.

"Try me."

Erik insisted, pressing metal into hands that didn't belong to him and crushing a sharp kiss over lips that was more mouth-to-mouth out of desperation than anything really.

Trust was out of the question at this point.

This, this is something far beyond that.

"I can't."

Charles was looking at him as though it should have been obvious but nothing was obvious or simple when it came to Charles' intricate mind games. Likewise, Erik had no idea what version of the same game they were now playing.

He tried to hand over the weapon, back into hands, he liked to pretend, that didn't kill an entire blacklist of war criminals. But Erik only ever denied him the things he needed the most.

Charles sucked in a sharp breath and asked, one last time.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"…Got it." He nodded numbly, jaw tensing as he bit the insides of his cheeks.

They both breathed through their nose. Anticipation was running thick in their veins.

_When Charles first wrapped his fingers around the gun, Erik could feel the hum and then the warmth of human grip, like the gun was an extension of himself and Charles couldn't let go. His clutch felt like a death grip around his throat. Erik couldn't get enough._

"No!"

The first sound was startling because it was unexpected. Erik never thought he could have this sort of effect on Charles. Nonetheless, he liked the way his throat formed around that single note of rejection.

"No, I can't!" He pulled back like it visibly hurt to keep holding the weight of the metal up in the air. Sucking in a breath, he shook his head with his words. "I'm sorry." He sighed deeply. "I can't shoot anybody point blank, let alone my friend."

His blue eyes bored into his own and there were no misunderstandings at this point.

This was only something beyond love.

"Oh, come on! You know I can deflect it."

He took hold of Charles' hand, the one with the gun and pointed it right back at his head again. There was insistence in his plead and confidence in his argument, like there was nothing wrong with the madness in his methods.

"You're always telling me I should push myself."

Erik's eyes shined with something, a certain feeling no one else should understand.

Only, Charles did.

"If you know you can deflect it, then you're not challenging yourself." The water they were in that night and the destruction that was washed back to shore. It was all rushing back at them along a deep velvety scent of salt. Charles' eyes were nothing like he had seen before. "Whatever happened to the man who's... who's trying to raise a submarine?"

Erik pulled back, eyes trained on his hands and the callouses weapons have left behind.

"I can't. Something that big, I..." He couldn't forget the coin lying motionless on the tabletop. "I need the situation, the anger."

But Charles was already interrupting him, voice faint and parting, like light in the dark. "No, the anger is not enough."

"Well, it's gotten the job done all this time."

Erik knew his eyes spoke of defiance but it was hardly enough to convince the other of his cause.

"It's nearly gotten you killed all this time."

Charles could only restate his words in a way they should both understand.

Because they spoke in words of blood and murder and nothing, _nothing_ could turn them back.

000

A gun is a toy until the last bullet is fired.

And even though Charles could do damage like no one ever could, it was in the way he smiled with closure when he wiped your mind to a clear blank. Like there was a sense of comfort when you forgot everything that he had ever done for you. There were never any regrets, just hopeful altruism that continued to fade with each decision he made.

He never thought he would need to go far to find whatever he had always been looking for. If it was a jump in the sea for a man he had never met before, then so be it. He liked the way water would swallow up his last remaining breath.

But now, it was a tender hold that kept him in place, gentle and sweet like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The sand was hot and grazing beneath his fingertips.

But the gun was no longer in anyone's hands.

It had all fallen too far and fast.

Erik had him in his arms and there was still reasoning in the way he loved him.

Charles looked up at him, eyes blue, lips red and a million words on his mind. He said very little and thought a lot, so much so he couldn't be sure what he was saying had anything to do with what he was thinking of.

The blur was like the bullet he never saw. (A bullet neither saw until it was much too late.)

He opened his mind and grasped for some sign of Erik, there were none.

_I am glad it was me and not you._

His words echoed in the silence of his own head.

_I know, you're sorry. But it's okay, Erik, this is for you. You've given me more than enough._

There were no replies or even a grunt indicating that he had heard a thing. Because he was speaking for himself, it was a selfish thing to do but he wouldn't ever tell a soul. He liked the way Erik's fingers curved around the back of his neck, it was like a soft sorry for all the times Erik told him he would never be gentle with him.

He smiled for all the unknown reasons, he felt nothing but pain in all the wrong places. He felt Erik's punch that landed on his face, he felt Erik's grip on his collar, he felt everything but the bullet in his back.

"For all your anger and your pain, if you can forgive me just a little, then it's enough."

And this time, not even the point between the muzzle and the wound was enough to repair their pain.

Erik didn't hear a thing.

It would take days before Erik came to a realization in the moments his head was silent and he could think alone that he was being tamed all along. A part of him would supply that he could hardly think for himself anymore but he deemed it untrue and some more because Charles had only ever given him nothing but choices and options for him to rationalize through.

Erik would try to breath and then he would realize that he couldn't. There were far too many enemies behind their friendly fires.

And seldom, when Charles had finally recovered from the all the stages of grief, he would wonder why Erik had never left until the very end. But he was also a little afraid of what his mind can conjure up and worst, what his mind could turn into reality. His emotions were unstable at best but it was the rational side of him that made him truly dangerous.

Months after the Cuban Missile Crisis, when Charles could work up the strength to press his forehead to the metal of Erik's helmet, he wouldn't be reading into his mind or even finding that similar comforting feel of Erik's existence.

Because all he would feel is unforgiving metal.

Unlike Erik, who was now extending himself over Charles' skin, ghosting over the iron in his blood.

Like a reversal for all the things Charles had done for him in return, this, this was Erik's version of Charles' telepathy.

XXX Kuro

It's like an awful cycle of hurt and comfort, only I don't have the power to change their ending. D': Still, I don't want anything about XMFC to change, loved the divorce for everything it was!


End file.
